


Rag

by Writing-The-Thing (writingfanfic)



Category: The Thing (1982)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Sarcasm, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 18:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Thing





	Rag

“Don’t chip a nail.”

You look up, and Palmer grins at you, leaning against the generator.

“What’re you doing? Did your hairdryer stop working?” he teases, and you flip him off. “Hey, babe, your hair looks beautiful anyhow. Real, uh, windswept and interesting.”

“You know. Garry sends out a ‘please fix immediately’ memo, the two main mechanics are stoned as hell, someone’s gotta pick up the slack,” you shoot back, and he tilts his head.

“That was Garry? We unhooked the comms, man, it’s so annoying when you’re trying to just chill out and watch the thirteenth playthrough of the same episode of  _M*A*S*H_  to hear Garry yellin’ about some shit needs fixing.”

“Yes, I would imagine that as the base mechanics that would be annoying,” you snark. He sticks his tongue out, and you grimace. “Gross, you have to quit smoking.”

“Yeah, then I’d probably kill Windows.” He winks at you, and you smile a little, despite yourself. “You can’t say it’s never crossed your mind, doll.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, if you need the help of a big, strong man…” He gestures to himself, and you reach into the machine, praying to god your hand comes out with the regular number of fingers, and not stretched as if they were on a rack.

“I’ll get Childs, yeah, yeah.”

“I am hurt. You hurt me. What’s the matter with the damn thing?” He kneels next to you, and you withdraw your hand, holding a shredded-up rag. “Oh… motherfucker, that could’ve started a fuckin’ fire.”

“Is this one of the cleaning rags?” you ask, and he takes it off of you, before kissing you.

“You saw nothin’. Not a damn thing. And Garry gets to see nothin’ on the repair form,” he says, firmly, and you roll your eyes.

“And your only bribe is a kiss?” you grin, and he rolls his eyes, beaming, before kissing you again. “Oh, I am gonna need way more than that, sweetie…”


End file.
